


Postpartum

by MashiarasDream



Series: Yours!verse [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alpha!Sam, Angst, Blood, Complications, Dean!pain, M/M, Mpreg, Omega!Gabriel, Some Fluff, a/b/o dynamics, alpha!cas, also Dean being Dean and jumping to conclusions, child birth, established relationships - Freeform, for obvious reasons no smut, like literal Dean!pain, omega!dean, time stamp 5 for Yours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 20:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4579524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pup is coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postpartum

**Author's Note:**

> Because my beta-reader didn’t remember this: Yes, Cas has indeed finished his education and is technically a doctor.  
> Apart from that: I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.

He’s washing the last bowl from the pie he was making when someone rams a knife into his back. The bowl clatters into the sink and he has to grab onto the kitchen counter to keep upright. The knife gets twisted around and around. It takes Dean’s breath away, so the scream that makes it out of his mouth is weak and strangled.

Then, as suddenly as it came, the pain eases, leaving Dean uncoordinated and numb. He makes the effort to turn and check but of course there’s no one behind him. He concentrates on breathing instead. It happens. Just a cramp. A weird and intense cramp but it’s not unusual, right?

Another few moments and he can move again. He picks the bowl up from where it had fallen and dries it off to put it away.

This time, it’s not a knife, it’s a sword. And it’s stabbing the whole way through him. There’s no chance to hold onto anything, his fingers are not cooperating. The bowl lands on the floor first, the plastic bouncing, and then he slides to his knees, too.

‘Breathe, breathe, breathe,’ he commands himself but his lungs feel collapsed and the pain is too blinding to do anything.

The next moment, there is something warm running down his legs and for a moment he thinks the pain’s actually been strong enough to make him pee himself but he just went to the bathroom, the baby never giving his bladder rest, and oh fuck, the baby.

Cas is next to him suddenly, holding him, and where the hell did he come from?

“We need to get him to the infirmary. Hannah, call Pamela. We need her.”

Oh, and Hannah is here, too, and so is Meg because she’s at his right side where Cas is at his left.

“It’s too early, Cas, it’s too early, it’s still almost a month,” Dean grits out when the pain retreats to a tolerable level.

“I know, Dean.u We’re going to help you up now. We need to get you to a bed and get you undressed. Then Pamela is going to look at you and we’ll know more.”

“It’s too early,” Dean repeats urgently.

“I know,” Cas says soothingly. “We’ll figure it out. In the meantime, do you think you can help us and walk?”

And Dean would answer, he would, but the pain is back and he’s too busy trying not to scream. He’s not sure he’s succeeding, either.

“It’s alright, Meg, I can carry him. Can you get the room ready?” Cas’ voice makes it through the haze, but only barely.

“The room’s been ready for a while.” Meg sounds off. She’s all snark normally but now she’s all business. “You sure you should be doing this?”

“I’m sure,” Cas growls and Dean feels himself being lifted from the ground.

His pants are wet and cooling rapidly and it’s icky but the pain’s a little less with his mate here, so that’s something, Dean thinks, and clings on.

It doesn’t even hold until the room, though, before the next wave crashes over him. He tries to remember whether this is normal. Shouldn’t it be starting slower? And it shouldn’t be starting right now at all. “There’s still a month,” he pants. “We don’t even have a name yet.”

“It’s okay, Dean, it’s okay.”

But Cas sounds spooked and Dean can’t concentrate enough to get a full picture of his scent, but it isn’t good.

“We’ll strip you now, okay?”

And he’d refuse with Meg in the room, but it hurts less if there’s nothing restricting his body and he’d really like to dry himself off, too.

He screams again with the next wave of pain, and it isn’t localized anymore, it lights up all of him and it feels wrong, it feels so horrible wrong. “Cas,” he gasps, desperate.

“I’m here, I’m right here,” Cas says and that’s true, he’s working on getting Dean’s pants down around his ankles while Meg is putting his shoes away.

“He needs an epidural,” Meg states.

“I’m not an anesthesiologist. And I haven’t practiced in a decade.” Cas sounds somewhat frantic.

“We wait for Dr. Barnes then,” Meg answers. “Go hold his hand.”

“But I have to check whether…”

“Go hold his hand,” Meg repeats and there is no room for argument in her voice.

Warm hands surround Dean’s all of a sudden and then Cas is there, sitting right next to him.

“Hey,” Dean whispers.

“Hey,” Cas answers. “Pam will be here in a few minutes, okay? Just hang on.”

Dean digs his fingers into Cas’ hand and wants to howl with the next onslaught.

They go through three more rounds of this before the door opens and Pamela comes rushing in.

“Hey there, pretty,” she greets Dean first before nodding at Cas and Meg. “Heard you’ve decided to be done with waiting.”

“Not how I remember it,” Dean makes an attempt at gallows’ humor, though his voice is too rough for it.

“Ah well, maybe the little one was done waiting. Okay, Meg, do you have the supplies ready?”

“Of course.”

“Bring them, please. Cas, move towards the head-end a bit, I need to check up on the progress.”

Cas moves, settling in next to Dean’s head and running his hands through Dean’s sweaty hair.

“Dean, this is going to be invasive, but you knew it was going to be. I’m trying to be as gentle as possible.”

Dean would laugh at that but it comes out mostly as tears. He doesn’t care whether it’s invasive, all he cares about is, “Make it stop, please.”

“In a minute, Dean, in a minute,” Pam replies absentmindedly while pressing her fingers into his belly.

The next wave of pain actually makes his world black out for a moment, and when it floods back, it is such a rush that it induces nausea. He wants to throw up but that would rock all of him, and he isn’t sure the pain wouldn’t drive him insane.

There’s another trickle of something warm between his legs and he feels Cas’ sharp intake of breath more than he hears it.

Pamela’s voice has changed when she speaks again, “Cas, I want you to stay calm. This happens. It isn’t uncommon, but we can’t do this here like we’ve planned. I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“No,” Dean tries to sit up because they’ve promised him. They’ve promised him he won’t have to go to a clinic, because he hates them and he hates the Omega wards and he can’t and – he sees how the pristine white of the sheets is now a bright red lake and he cries out because something is wrong. Something is very very wrong.

“Dean! Dean, listen to me,” suddenly Pam’s voice is right next to him and she has his chin in her hand and turns him towards her, “just breathe. Just breathe and hold onto Cas’ hand and everything will be fine. Understand? It will be fine.”

She lets go of him just when the searing-white pain comes back. He doesn’t have the strength to scream and his whimper sounds pitiful in his own ears but the way Cas’ hand starts to tremble and the way there’s more warmth flowing out of him, everything is still wrong.

“Male Omega… premature… hemorrhaging…,” are the words he catches from the phone call. Then he hears, “Meg, help me,” and then his brain fights with every nerve ending in his body again and he wishes the blackness would be back because the blackness was peaceful for a second and he’s not sure how long he can make it through this pain.

“Cas,” he mumbles, “Cas?”

“I’m here, Dean,” but Cas’ voice is shaky and Cas is always composed. Dean forces his eyes open to look at his mate and Cas’ eyes are bright with tears and he’s biting his lip and trying for a comforting smile, but he’s deadly pale and Cas is a doctor, when Cas looks like this, then this means bad things for Dean.

“The baby,” Dean starts and has to stop as the next wave of pain takes him out onto the wide ocean for a moment.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas repeats, “the ambulance is going to be here in a moment.”

But Dean shakes his head because it’s not okay. Nothing about this is okay. “The baby,” he insists. And because he isn’t sure Cas gets it, he adds, “save _her_.”

Because that looked like a lot of blood and it’s still flowing out of him and Cas is shaking and paler than he’s ever seen him and he doesn’t hear Cas’ answer because the next wave carries him a bit farther out into the sea.

But he holds on, clings to his consciousness, claws his way back from the peaceful place out in the middle of the dark ocean to the roaring agony of the moment, because he isn’t finished, he can’t go like this. “Cas, Cas,” he begs and he doesn’t think his words are more than a whisper, no matter how hard he tries. But Cas leans down, tears dropping freely from his eyes now, and Cas never cries. “Love you, Cas. Love you so much. Will always love you.” And yeah, that’s better, he’s said it.

“I love you, too, Dean. God, I love you so much. Dean, stay with me, please!”

But he can’t keep his eyes open, the next wave taking him too far out to find his way back. “Save her!” He thinks he’s said it out loud, but he can’t be sure.

Then there’s only the ocean, dark and heavy like molten metal, and he’s floating above it.

 

There’s beeping. And the smell of disinfectants. And salt water. So much salt water it drowns out everything else. There’d been an ocean. An ocean would explain the salt water. But not the beeping. And why are his eyelids so heavy?

He tries to open them and it’s like someone put lead weights on them. When they finally move, it’s like the lead is wrapped in sandpaper and it’s rasping over his eyes.

The room takes a while to come into focus. Whites. Disinfected whites. And a swirl of dark hair. On a sunken form slumping half in a chair, half on his bed. The salt water smell is coming from there. Dean wants to reach out a hand to touch the dark curls. Wants to ask what’s wrong. But his hands don’t cooperate, and neither do his eyes. They insist on falling closed again.

 

He’s still floating in a world of haze the next time he wakes up. Something went wrong, he remembers now. And there was blood. Too much blood. His blood.

The sunken form is where it was, the salt water smell still the same, but the form’s shoulders are shaking. He’s crying, Dean realizes with a start. Sobbing deeply and helplessly and desperately.

Mate, Dean thinks before the blackness reclaims him.

 

The third time, he remembers. He remembers breaking down in the kitchen. He remembers the blood and he also remembers the reason for it.

His eyes search out the broken form on the chair. He’s not slumping on the bed anymore, just leaning forward, elbows on knees, head in hands, and there’s glistening wetness falling to the floor. He’s still crying.

He’s still crying.

Dean’s heart crashes into a new abyss of pain, different this time, because the pain isn’t physical. If Cas is still crying, that can only mean one thing. She didn’t make it. Their daughter didn’t make it.

The knowledge grips his heart with a cold claw and his mate’s name that had already been on his lips dies.

Dean closes his eyes again, hides from the knowledge, hides from the moment when he has to look into Cas’ eyes and see the truth of it there.

He grits his teeth against the pain, stifles the wail that wants to escape and manages to keep his tears silent.

 

It isn’t better when he wakes up the next time. Or it is better, a bit, because Cas has fallen asleep. He’s pressed his knees to his chest, curled in on himself on the small chair, and Dean doesn’t think he should be able to sleep like this.

He looks different somehow. Maybe it’s the dimmed yet still too white lights of the room. But Dean doesn’t think so. Cas looks – broken.

Dean’s heart painfully constricts and he wants to reach out. Wants to wrap Cas up in his arms and be wrapped up in him in return. He has a feeling it’s more selfish than selfless, though. He wants to use the security of mate to make his heart expand back to normal. To make the pain go away.

But Cas is pale and his eyes have settled so much deeper into his skull than they normally are. The skin around them is a blue so dark that it almost seems black. And all of that is Dean’s fault.

He’s broken like Gabe, only he didn’t know it in time. And because Dean’s broken, Cas is broken, too, now. And he’d kill anyone else who’d hurt Cas in a way that leaves him looking like this.

Suddenly, Dean’s freezing. He can feel the rush of the meds through his veins, dimming down his physical pain and with it all thoughts and feelings. But it isn’t enough to shake the thought that Cas deserves someone who doesn’t make him look like this. Cas deserves to be happy.

He doesn’t know what to do with the thought apart from try to snuggle further into the blanket in an attempt to find warmth without reaching for the warmth of his mate. Cas deserves to be happy but Dean wants to cling on to him with everything he’s got anyway. He’s never felt like he wasn’t a complete person on his own, but now thinking about losing Cas is like thinking about cutting off half of his body. It hurts at least as much.

So yes, Dean never wants to see Cas like this. Doesn’t want his strong and kind Alpha to be a broken form in a hospital chair, crying himself to sleep because his mate can’t give him the family he deserves. But he doesn’t have the strength to do anything about it, either. Never had.

He shifts another fraction of an inch in his bed. It’s good maybe, that his body is reacting sluggishly and his hands lack the strength to even grip the bedsheet tightly. He can’t do anything stupid this way like drag his ass out of bed and spend the rest of the night on the floor next to Cas. Cause he wants to be held and he knows Cas would do it, whatever the personal cost to him.

But Cas deserves an out if he wants it. And the best Dean can do is this. Stay on his side of the room. Fall asleep again and pretend he was never awake to see this. Stay strong if Cas tells him he can’t do this anymore. That they’re better off on their own. Not make him feel guilty. And chew on his own guilt about failing his mate and his pup alone.

Dean turns his head away from Cas then, because he can’t look at his mate and think about their daughter. He’s spent too much time imagining her already. Spent too many lazy hours in bed with Cas imagining what she might be like. Whether she’d get Cas’ quiet efficiency or Dean’s loud laughs. Whether she’d get the dominant genes, the blue eyes and the dark hair and the Alpha gender, or whether some of the recessive features might make it through, Anna’s red hair or Dean’s green eyes and his secondary gender. He wouldn’t have been too worried for her if that had been the case. It’s different for girls. There’s less stigma attached for them. And there’s less boasting potential in over-whelming a girl. They still live with the same dangers any Omega lives with – and any girl for that matter – but she won’t be ridiculed the same way Dean had been, having to fight every step of the way. She wouldn’t have been, Dean should think, and tears sting his eyes but he isn’t even sure whether he’s allowed to shed them. It’s his body that betrayed them, so he should be bearing this silently.

He bites his lip hard but the pain killers are too strong and the physical pain isn’t enough to be stronger than the other pain and he can’t stop the sob escaping his throat. His heartrate goes up with it and the beeps from the monitor get louder.

There’s rustling from the chair then and Dean freezes.

“Dean?” The voice is hoarse but not in the way it usually is after Cas has slept for a few hours. It is rusty and paper-thin, fragile to the point of breaking.

It takes a moment for Cas to unfold himself from his curled up position, enough time for Dean to shut his eyes and even out his breathing and heartrate as well as he can. His scent will show his pain but he’s sure it’s done that before, so it won’t give him away.

The rustling comes closer and then there’s body heat and it’s wonderful and frightening and Dean is not ready to face his mate, so he takes deliberate deep breaths and pretends he’s still unconscious.

Cas waits for a moment, waits for movement, for any indication Dean is awake. When nothing comes forward, Cas gives a quiet defeated huff and shuffles back to his chair.

Dean is simultaneously relieved and wants to cry with the loss of Cas’ warmth. Instead, he resigns himself to listen to his mate’s soft breathing, to the evidence that he’s still in the room. He waits for the breathing to become shallow and then deep and slow, signs that Cas is falling asleep. But they aren’t coming. Instead, there’s a slight hitch in Cas’ breath and Dean shuts his ears against it, because he thinks it means that Cas is crying again.

 

Dean has no idea when he fell back asleep or how much later it is when he wakes up. The smell of the room has changed. It’s still salt water but it’s overlaid with something sweet. He has to pry his eyes open to place it. “Gabe,” he attaches a name to the man with the dirty blond hair pacing the room.

The steps falter. One quick turn, wide, disbelieving eyes, “Dean-o!” Gabe rushes to his side.

Gabe’s here. Why is Gabe here? Where is Cas?

Dean’s thoughts are slow like molasses but the cold claw around his heart comes back instantly. Because Dean’s lost their baby. Dean’s body wasn’t strong enough and now Cas is gone. And Dean’s said he wants him to be happy and he’s shut himself away from his mate so that his mate could make the decision for the both of them but now that Cas has done that, Dean can’t take it. It feels like a limb being ripped from him, and he’d do anything to turn back the time to last night so he can try again and not be a coward and face Cas, and maybe if he had faced Cas, Cas would be disappointed and mad and crying but he’d still be here.

“Dean-o, calm down, Dean-o!” Gabe grabs his hand. “You’re not strong enough yet, you gotta calm down.”

It’s only then that Dean notices that the heartrate monitor has started beeping wildly. He stares at it, willing his eyes to see something else, anything, to make this a dream instead of reality. But he can’t and it isn’t. Calming his heart down isn’t working too well, either. But he’s got to say something. Do something. He’s got to do what he couldn’t last night and at least face this truth.

“Did he leave me?” Dean doesn’t manage to get his voice above a fevered whisper, the monitor’s beeping louder than his words, but the second he says it he knows that he can’t. He just can’t. He turns his head away from the answer. He doesn’t want to know.

“What?” Gabe asks dumbfounded.

And Dean isn’t strong enough to repeat the question, he’ll take not knowing the truth. He has enough memories to sustain himself in fantasy for a while.

“Dean-o, I have no idea what you’re asking but I’m assuming you want to know what happened. Is that it?”

Dean shakes his head because really, ignorance is bliss. But then, Gabe is his friend, and that’s probably why Cas sent him here. He’s kind and considerate even in this, and Dean hates this moment, but he knows no matter what Gabe’s going to say, he isn’t going to hate Cas. And it’s better to hear this from a friend, so he says “yes”, and together with the head-shaking it’s probably mixed signals but Gabe will understand because Gabe is good like that, even when he looks grave and exhausted and not at all like his usual sarcastic self. Also Dean’s fault, he guesses. He has a long list of things he can never make up to the people around him.

“You went into labor prematurely,” Gabe says, obviously trying to be very calm and make it sound as non-threatening as possible. Of course that makes it worse. “Something about a rupture and the placenta. You lost a lot of blood.”

Dean nods because he’s figured as much and it’s not what he needs to know. “Don’t spare me.” He doesn’t know whether it comes out audible.

Gabe looks at him confused.

“He sent you. He’s got reasons. Don’t spare me.” It exhausts him, even those few words. His mouth is dry like desert sands and his head swims. “Please, Gabe.”

“Dean, you – you almost died. They kept you under for like three days. They told us you had lost so much blood that your brain needed to stabilize first and even like this they couldn’t guarantee you’d be the same person you were before. There you’ve got it, that’s the whole truth.”

Dean isn’t sure whether Gabe is obtuse on purpose or whether he’s been instructed to do this but Dean won’t stand for this. He gathers his courage and whispers. “Don’t care about me. Care about him. And the baby. I lost the baby.” His voice is breaking on the words so he stops. He can get through this like he got through everything else in his life but he ain’t going to lie, this is going to be harder than the rest of it.

“What? No, Dean-o, you didn’t lose the baby. She’s fine. It was you who had us worried to death.”

“I – what?” Dean turns his head back to Gabriel, not believing the words, but hope nevertheless blooming in his heart.

“She’s fine! Your daughter is fine. She’s tiny but she’s beautiful. She’s got Cassie’s eyes. I was hoping for yours. Cassie’s with her right now. He didn’t want to leave your side but they say it’s important that she bonds with her Alpha-daddy early on. So they make him feed her and change her diapers and stuff. I think they want to make him shower, too, but no luck so far.”

“Cas is here?” Dean asks, hope suddenly solidifying into something tangible.

“Of course he is!” Gabe exclaims. “God, Dean-o, we were so worried. He didn’t sleep at all for the past few days I think. And he called me, cause, you know, Omega ward. Easier to get me in unattended than Sam. We’ve all been waiting for you to wake up.”

“Sam’s here?” Dean is stunned because Sam’s in Stanford. He’s having finals soon. He shouldn’t be here.

“Yes, he is here,” Gabriel confirms. “Of course he is here. Look, do you think you can stay awake for a moment? So that I can fetch Cassie?”

Dean nods. He’s not really up to speed, not really sure whether he believes Gabe yet. But if he makes it through a few more minutes, he’ll know. Cause he knows Cas inside out. Cas can’t lie to him. And Cas is here. Cas did not leave him. Cas is still here.

And then Cas comes sprinting through the door, sliding to a halt when he sees Dean’s eyes open. He looks as awful awake as he did asleep, his face sunken in and swollen from crying at the same time, dark bags under his eyes, the eyes themselves bloodshot and so red that their blue is almost wiped out.

“Cas,” Dean manages to get out because he needs him here. Needs him at his side, needs to know he’s not a mirage and that he isn’t just here to say he’s got no place for Dean in his life anymore. “Cas,” he repeats and it comes out broken and pleading and it’s like the floodgates open.

Cas starts crying again and he flings himself forward until he can collapse on the bed, hugging Dean, burying his nose in his neck and sobbing uncontrollably. “Thought I’d lost you,” he stutters in between tears, half choking on the words, “Thought you wouldn’t wake up. They told me that… Oh God, Dean, I thought I’d lost you.”

He cries harder then, clinging to Dean tight enough that it hurts, and Dean fights against his weakened muscles to get his arms around his mate’s back to comfort him as best as he can. It draws the tears back into his eyes, too.

“I was so scared. And I wanted to be strong so badly. I wanted to be strong for our girl. That was the last thing you said to me, to tell them to

save her, but I couldn’t. Dean, I just couldn’t. I told them to save you. I don’t ever want to have to live without you. Not ever.”

The sentences break down into incoherent half-choked words after that. Dean doesn’t get the words but he gets that Cas is in more pain than he’s ever seen him in before, so he strokes his back and kisses the matted hair on his head, not knowing how else to make this better. He just knows that he himself feels incredibly much better already by having Cas in his arms.

“Now, now, Dr. Novak, you’re smothering your mate. Come on.”

Instead of letting go, Cas only holds on to Dean tighter when the voice of the doctor drifts over to them. Dean represses the slight groan when Cas accidentally presses on the fresh surgical scars. He doesn’t want to let go, either.

“I thought I heard the heartrate monitor go wild. And I see I was right. Dr. Novak, I need you to move enough that I can say hello to my lovely patient and check his vitals. Then I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

Cas tenses and he’s fighting with himself for a moment but then his practical sense wins out. He doesn’t get up but he scoots over enough that he can bury his sobs in the pillow instead of in Dean’s side.

“Think he doesn’t want you to see him crying,” Dean says and is surprised that he can string together this long a sentence and that his voice even approaches something like a normal volume.

The doctor laughs a friendly laugh, “Believe me, I’ve seen him cry before. Now – Dean, can I call you Dean?”

Dean nods groggily even while he’s grasping Cas’ hand for support. It’s an automatic reaction more than anything. Doctors in his experience are always bad news. Well, Pamela is kind of badass, so he can deal with her. But anyone else, not so much.

“I’m Melissa Jones. I’m your doctor. I’m glad that you’re back with us. You kept us on our toes for a while there and you gave your family quite a bit of a shock.” Her eyes stray to Cas but she actually smiles at him kind of fondly. “They love you a lot. You’re very lucky.” She turns serious again, “You’re lucky that you have a good doctor in your pack, too, who brought you here in time. I won’t lie to you, Dean, that was a close call. We see a lot of male Omega-births that go without complications, but unfortunately, male Omega pregnancies still carry the highest risks of all pregnancies. You started hemorrhaging because of internal tissue rupture. It’s – a weakness in the internal lining that carries a strong hereditary component. It’s not always dangerous. We can work against it when we know about the condition, but in your case, there were no medical files available for any Omegas closely related to you, and without that, there is almost no way to catch this beforehand. Are you following me still?” she interrupts herself.

Dean notices that his eyelids have been drooping even though he was listening as best as he could. “Internal bleeding. Not good,” he summarizes in words that he can manage.

She smiles, professionally, but as with Cas, her eyes are warm when she looks at him. “Not good indeed. But we managed to stop the bleeding and at the same time safely delivered your baby via C-Section. Congratulations, you have a beautiful baby-girl. She’s premature, so she needs to be kept under observation for a bit. But then, you’re still weak and I’d like to keep you here for a bit, too.”

“’kay,” is all Dean manages to say, the heavy darkness already intruding on him again.

“Your extended family on the other hand could actually go home and catch some sleep. And maybe shower. You’re out of the danger zone after all.”

“They won’t,” Dean mumbles, fighting against the overwhelming urge to close his eyes. “Idjits. Love them.”

The doctor laughs softly again. “I believe you. I’ll check your stats now but you don’t actually need to be awake for that. So feel free to fall asleep.”

Dean holds on a little tighter to Cas’ hand. He has no chance to win the fight against the intruding darkness but he’s scared that when he wakes up, he’ll be alone and everything good that’s happened, Cas being here and their baby being safe, will all have been a dream. “Please be here,” he mumbles.

Cas is still sniffling but he’s calmed down enough to answer. “Always.”

Dean smiles at that and finally accepts the offer of falling asleep. He doesn’t think he’s got too much of a choice.

 

Everything smells like mate. Literally, everything. It smells like mate who hasn’t showered in a while, too.

The next thing that registers is that Cas’ arm is slung over Dean’s shoulder and Dean is burying his nose into it. So that explains why everything smells like Cas. It actually smells like him, too, the saltwater having mostly dissipated.

Dean turns enough that he can look at his mate. His mouth is slightly open and he’s snoring softly.

There’s movement from the chair and Dean looks up to find Gabe’s eyes on him.

“He fell asleep an hour or so ago,” Gabriel whispers. “They let him stay on the bed cause your heartrate was more even and stronger with him wrapped around you.”

Dean nods his understanding.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I got mauled by a bear,” Dean whispers hoarsely.

“Do you want some water?” Gabe asks.

Dean contemplates that for a moment. His throat is so dry that it hurts. But drinking means moving, and he’s reasonably sure that means both pain and waking up Cas. And he’s up for neither of those. So he shakes his head.

“Anything else I can do?”

There is only one thing that comes to mind and he’s sure Gabe is not the right person to ask but he says it anyway. “Want to see her. Want to hold her. Want to know that she’s real.”

Gabriel nods, understanding immediately. “Yeah, I would, too, if I was you. But the night nurses are a pain in the butt. Think you’ll have to wait till the morning.”

“But she is still doing good?”

“Yeah, Dean-o, she’s still doing good. They’re keeping her in an incubator when no one’s holding her because she’s so small. But her lungs are working well and she’s keeping her formula down. And Cas has been doing the kangaroo thing and they’ve taught me, too. Apparently it helps even when it’s me.” There’s something like wonder in his voice.

“Think I’m still strung out on meds,” Dean mumbles. “Thought you said kangaroo.”

Gabriel doesn’t even laugh, he just has this soft smile on his face. “Cause that’s what I said. It’s this – basically you’re holding the baby against your chest because skin to skin contact and hearing your heartbeat makes them stronger. And holding her – you have a beautiful daughter, Dean.”

The room suddenly smells like strawberries and Gabe looks downright bashful when he notices Dean’s inquiring gaze.

Not a look Gabe gets often. He downplays it immediately, too. “Sammy’s got no chance after this, you’ll see. She’s already bonded to her favorite uncle, and it’s not him.”

But the humor fails because they’re talking about Dean’s daughter and Gabriel got to bond with her and Dean hasn’t even seen her yet. What if she’s done all the bonding she’s going to do? What if she won’t even like him?

“You’re worrying,” Gabe says. “I can smell it.”

Dean suddenly can’t lie still anymore, the position uncomfortable, Cas’ arm around him stifling. He gulps for air and throws Cas’ arm off before he can consciously think about it.

“Dean?”

Cas opens bleary eyes, and shit, Dean hadn’t actually wanted to wake him up. “Sorry. Sleep,” he says roughly and means ‘I love you, everything is fine, it’s safe to go back to sleep’ with it. But of course that’s not what Cas hears.

“Dean.” Cas shakes himself to wake up completely.

“Sleep, Cas, you need sleep,” Dean repeats stoically.

“No, you’re awake. You’re awake!” He lets his hand glide over Dean’s stubble and leans in for a chaste kiss. “You’re awake.” It sounds so relieved that it almost breaks Dean’s heart again. So much pain that he’s caused his mate in the past few days.

“’m sorry, Cas,” he mumbles against Cas’ lips.

Cas presses his lips to Dean’s again, cutting him off. “I’m glad to have you back.”

Cas’ hand is trembling against the skin of Dean’s face, so Dean nuzzles into it. He’s always been better at physically comforting someone than at finding the words.

“I’m glad, too,” he says and he knew it, the words are inconsequential and meaningless and don’t say a fraction of what he feels. He doesn’t know how to add that he thought he had lost Cas for a while there, too. Doesn’t know how to add that he’s seen him cry himself to sleep. So many things he could say but in the end, the words don’t come. But Cas is next to him and they didn’t lose each other and they didn’t lose their daughter, either. Who he has gotten to know and to feel for nine months but who he still doesn’t know in person. And who he doesn’t even know the name of. Because they hadn’t settled on a name yet, sure they had another month to figure it out. But she’s got to have a name by now.

He straightens a tiny bit away from Cas to be able to look at him. “Our daughter. What’d you name her?”

“I didn’t,” Cas answers.

Dean stares at his mate without comprehending. “But there’s forms. And you’re her Alpha-Dad.”

“And we hadn’t decided on a name yet. We’ll have to figure it out before we leave the hospital, but I didn’t want to name her without you.”

And Dean has no idea why there are suddenly tears in his eyes again, but there are.

“She’s our kid, Dean. Ours.”

“I wanna see her,” Dean whispers, because he’s wanted so badly to see her before but something about Cas’ words makes the ache almost unbearable.

Cas looks up at the clock on the wall. “3:45. You’ve got good timing. They’re feeding her at 4. And they like me. I’ll see what I can do. You going to be awake long enough for that?”

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “Yeah, I will be.” Because if he’s going to meet his daughter, he’s not missing it for the world.

“Okay,” Cas says and makes as if to get up but then leans back in and lays his forehead against Dean’s for a moment. “God, I don’t want to leave you. So scared that I’m just dreaming that you’re okay.”

“Be assured that it’s real,” Gabe grumbles from the other side of the room. “Because I’m pretty damn sure I don’t star in any of your sappy dreams.”

“True,” Cas answers after a moment of thinking about it. “Very true. Ha, who would have thought that you being obnoxious would have its advantages someday.”

But there is no heat behind the words and when Cas finally gets up he squeezes Gabe’s hand gratefully before he heads out.

Dean’s anxiety immediately flares up when Cas is out of sight. He looks down at his hands and they’re shaking. The heartrate monitor that he’s still attached to picks up on it, too, beeping getting irritating fast. Distraction is needed. “How come you’re here, Gabe?” Dean asks. “Without your mate at that.”

Gabe places himself on Dean’s bed. “Come on, Dean-o, you know how this works. No Alphas who aren’t blood relations or mates in the Omega ward. And even with Sam, they’ve insisted on him and Cassie not being in your room at the same time, so he’s only been here for a few minutes at a time whenever they could drag Cassie out. And they wouldn’t have been able to drag him out at all if I hadn’t been here to hold watch.”

“Thank you,” Dean says because judging by the state Cas is in, he’s pretty sure Gabriel has had his hands full in the past few days.

Gabe shrugs, “Eh, it’s alright. Bal’s over-protective but he’s not an ass. And someone had to make sure that Cassie was at least drinking some water every so often.”

Dean can feel the guilt tugging at his heart again. Cas is so in control. To see him reduced to being too far gone for basic functioning is disconcerting to say the least.

“I told him to save her…” Dean doesn’t even know whether it’s an admission of more guilt or whether he wants to say ‘I wanted to spare him this’.

Gabe is silent for a long moment, then he says, “I know. He told me. Or rather, he choked on the words while crying his heart out. You were still in surgery. He didn’t make an awful lot of sense. But I got that part. And something about having promised you to never do anything against your will and that it was wrong of him to disregard your words and that he knew it was wrong but that he couldn’t help it. He was very, very scared, Dean-o. And very desperate.”

And that’s a lot of words to make sense of and he’s not sure what to make of it, because yeah, if Dean ever wanted proof that Cas values Dean’s life higher than the continuation of his line, here it is, and how can Dean be angry at him for that. But then, that’s their daughter and she deserves a shot at life and Dean would have been okay giving his life for her if that’s what it took.

He’ll just – he’ll need to make sure that Cas doesn’t turn into Dean’s father if Dean dies. Cause his daughter definitely doesn’t deserve that.

“Don’t be upset with him for this, Dean-o. You know why he did it. And don’t even pretend you wouldn’t have made the same choice.”

Luckily, Cas interrupts the conversation at this point.

“Yeah, I know, you’re hungry. And we’re feeding you in a second. But look who we’ve got here. It’s your Omega-Daddy and your Uncle. Want to meet your Omega-Daddy, little one?”

Cas’ button-up is open and he’s got their baby-girl pressed against his skin. She makes whimpering sounds but then quiets and crinkles her nose when the smells of the new room hit her.

“Yes, little one, that’s your Omega-Daddy’s scent. He smells good, doesn’t he? Much better than the rest of the hospital. Can you scoot to the side a little, Dean? And sit up? So you can get a better hold on her?”

Dean isn’t sure he should be moving that much but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t hold his daughter now that she’s here.

Gabe’s being surprisingly helpful, grabbing a few pillows and stacking them at Dean’s back, so that he’s sitting up straighter without having to move much. The new position doesn’t hurt, so he stretches out his arms.

Cas has the biggest smile on his face when he carefully supports their daughter’s head as he lowers her into Dean’s arms.

They weren’t lying, she is tiny. A tiny, rose-colored human being with wide blue eyes, so delicate that Dean thinks he might break her. But then she starts squirming and it’s pretty obvious what she wants, she wants to be closer and scent him, so he stops looking at her and brings her in close. Lets her scent at his pulse point, which prompts her to make cooing noises. It tickles when her nose brushes him, her head too heavy for her to keep it upright even with Dean supporting it.

She paws at him, uncoordinated, and Dean thinks she smells more than his normal scent because she’s getting whiney and demanding. “She wants milk,” he says and marvels at the fact that he’s known her for all of two seconds and can already decipher what she wants.

“You can’t,” Cas says, “too many meds in your body. But I’ve got her bottle right here. Hold her close and you can feed her with that.”

For a second, he’s disappointed. She’s been alive for so few days and already he gave her a rocky start into life. He couldn’t be with her during those first few days and now he can’t even give her this. But then he resolutely pushes the thoughts aside because his daughter is hungry, so he’s going to feed her. And if it’s formula, then it’s going to be the damn best formula at the exactly right temperature.

He turns her around and cushions her against his arm before stretching his hand out for the bottle. Cas’ fingers brush his when he hands it over.

“You got to…”

But Dean’s already slowly guiding the bottle between his daughter’s lips and it takes only a second before she starts suckling on it.

“Or you could do it just like that,” Cas states and sounds slightly frustrated.

Dean can’t really tear his eyes away from his daughter, who looks all happy and peaceful now with her bottle, but Gabriel chuckles. “First time she’s not making a fuzz. I guess we know who’s the natural talent at this, and it’s neither Cassie nor me.”

“She knows who her Omega-Daddy is, don’t you, little one?” Dean smiles absentmindedly and, Jesus, her eyes are big and blue. They’re lighter than Cas’, they look more like the bright skies of a humid summer day than the intense blue of a clear fall afternoon.

An image appears in Dean’s mind suddenly, a young woman, blonde hair, grey-blue eyes, that in the right light had a spark of green. Of the same moss green that is dominant in his own eyes.

“Mary,” Dean whispers and his daughter stops drinking and looks up at him. “Mary,” he repeats because obviously she liked the sound of the word. She gurgles a little and wiggles her head and then starts drinking again.

“Mary,” Cas repeats and Dean’s kind of forgotten that he was there. “Mary it is then.”

There is no question in Cas’ voice, just a smile.

“I didn’t -,” Dean starts but then he breaks off because maybe he did. “You sure?” he asks instead.

“It’s a good name,” Cas says. “And she obviously likes it.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Dean smiles. Then he looks up at Cas again. “You good with that? Naming your first-born after my family?”

Cas looks exhausted and pretty exactly like someone looks who hasn’t caught more than a few hours of sleep for the better part of a week but he is smiling. “Yes, Dean, I’m good with that.”

They’re just watching her then, their little daughter, while she finishes feeding. They get her to burp after, and Cas and Gabe show Dean the kangaroo hold. He can’t do it really because his hospital gown doesn’t open at the front, so finally they settle in together, Cas holding Mary so she’s pillowed against his chest, Dean leaning into Cas, his hand supporting his daughter.

He’s pretty sure Gabe snatches more than one photo but he can’t even pretend to be upset at the intrusion into their privacy.

Dean starts drifting off again after a while, a pleasant sort of half-sleep where nothing hurts and the world consists only of their little family.

His fantasy gets interrupted though when a nurse clears her throat. She tries and fails to look stern as she’s taking in the picture in front of her. “I need to bring the little one back now.”

“Mary. Her name is Mary,” Cas supplies with a warm smile.

The nurse smiles back. “What a nice name. It fits her. I’m still going to need to bring her back, though. We can monitor her better in the NCU. And you need some sleep.”

Cas sighs but he moves, careful not to disturb Mary’s slumber. “I’ll come with you.”

The nurse gives him another smile, this one understanding. “It’s a hard job, protecting everyone at the same time. We can help, you know. We have the training.”

Dean thinks Cas is blushing but he stands his ground. “I’ll still bring her back myself if it’s all the same to you.”

“But only because it’s you,” the nurse indulges him.

Dean frowns slightly at that because why is the nurse talking to Cas like that, and his scent seems to be even more all over the place than normally, because the nurse immediately picks up on it.

“Alphas aren’t allowed in the NCU as a rule. It’s too easy to frighten the little ones. But your mate… There’s no resisting him. We all fell in love with how much he loves you and little Mary.” She turns back to Cas, “Come along then, Dr. Novak.”

“I’ll be right back.” Cas gives him a kiss on the forehead and then he stands up to follow the nurse. Mary makes soft whimpering sounds again and Cas soothes her quietly. “You need to sleep for a bit, little one. It won’t be long before you can be back with your Daddy, okay?”

They leave the room, leaving Dean and Gabriel behind. Dean wants to stay awake until Cas is back. He tries. Hard. But in the end, the blackness wins out.

 

In the morning, Dean feels better. Not so much better as in ‘less in pain’, but more alert and coherent.

“We’re scaling back on the pain meds,” the nurse explains to him. “Because we’re going to make you get up today. You need to get your feet back under you. But you need to be careful while doing it. So you need to feel when it starts hurting.”

Dean nods because he understands that. And he wants back on his feet. The hospital grates on his nerves, even when the omega ward is brightly lit and all the nurses are Betas or Omegas and everyone is nice to him. And he wants to take his daughter home to the nursery he’s built her.

“I want you to send your mate home for that, Dean.”

“What?” Cas, who had been sitting silently to the side so far, immediately bristles.

“Send him home,” the nurse repeats, still talking to Dean. “Tell him to get a few hours of actual sleep. A long shower. A new set of clothes.”

“But…” Cas tries to interrupt.

“Bal’s and my place is twenty minutes from here,” Gabe cuts in from where he’d been leaning against the window sill. “You can be back before lunch.”

“But I…,” but it sounds defeated already.

“And Bal isn’t even home. Come on. You’re a doctor, you know how this works.”

“I’m not a security risk,” Cas insists sullenly. “I won’t flip just because the first steps will be difficult.”

“And I actually don’t think you are a security risk, Dr. Novak. But rules are rules. Also, you _do_ need a long shower and a new set of clothes. Otherwise the whole Omega ward will smell like Alpha and I’m reasonably sure that our other patients won’t appreciate it.”

Cas sighs, certain that he’s lost this argument now. “But I’m checking on Mary first.”

“You go do that,” the nurse nods.

“I’ll come with. To make sure he actually goes. Off we go, little brother, come on,” Gabriel shoos him towards the door.

“Would you hold on for one second,” Cas grumbles and neatly steps around Gabe to come back to Dean.

“Yeah, you go, little Alpha, I’ll be fine,” Dean says and lays a hand on Cas’ stubble. “You look like you need to get out of here for a bit.”

“Ask them whether Sam is allowed to come in. He’s not had a chance to see you awake yet. My fault. I was hogging every minute of that,” Cas blushes.

“Okay, little Alpha,” Dean says and stretches to give Cas a small kiss. “And now go before they throw you out.”

Cas gives him a final peck, sighs deeply and nods at Gabriel, “Let’s go then.”

“See you in a bit,” Gabe waves at Dean.

And then they’re gone and Dean is alone with the nurse.

She nods satisfied. “Wasn’t actually sure that was going to work. They didn’t leave you alone for a second while you were out.”

Dean isn’t sure how she means that, whether she approves of it or whether she thinks it wrong. “Cas isn’t – he just -” But Dean doesn’t actually have the right words.

She notes some numbers down on her file but then she puts the sheet aside and perches on the edge of Dean’s bed when she answers. “Look, we see plenty Alpha mates in this ward. Some posture. Some are really proud fathers. Some are arrogant assholes. Some, we get threatened by when their mates or pups don’t get better. We deal with them because we have to. And because having an Alpha mate close does wonders in terms of heartrate and blood pressure and healing. But your mate,” she breaks off and smiles at Dean, “I wasn’t kidding when I said we all fell in love.”

“You can’t have him,” Dean growls and it’s only half a joke.

She laughs. “We’re aware. Believe me, we’re aware. We had to force him to eat and to wash up at least a little. If his brother hadn’t come to help watch over you, I don’t think he would have left your side at all.”

“You disapprove.”

“No. No, I actually don’t. He was heartbroken. But he wasn’t – Alpha. He was just your husband, you know? Who loves you a lot and was very scared. And who wanted to do right by you. And his presence helped.”

“Helped how much?” Dean asks.

“I can’t say for sure. But you lost a lot of blood. Even with the infusions, blood pressure doesn’t stabilize fast. Yours did, though. He held your hand and you slept peacefully when we kept you under. You might have recovered just as fast and just as completely without him.”

“Or?”

“Or your brain might not have recovered this completely after being cut off from oxygen for so long.”

Dean takes a moment to digest that information. “I owe him,” is all he finally says, though.

“Dean, if places were reversed, if he had an accident, you would be able to do the same thing for him.”

“Yeah, but the places aren’t reversed, are they? So I owe him.”

She looks at him with a soft, sad smile.

“It’s okay,” Dean says. “I owe him a lot anyway.”

“Didn’t actually think you were one of those.”

“One of those?” Dean raises his eyebrows.

“I just –,“ but she catches herself, goes back to a more professional attitude. “I just don’t think he thinks about it the same way.”

And now Dean understands what she means. “No, he doesn’t. But one of us has to keep track.”

“Why?”

“Because he’d give forever and never ask anything in return. It’s my job to make sure he gets his share anyway.” When she doesn’t answer anything to this, he snorts. “You’re not the only one who fell in love with him, Lady.” Somehow, it’s the first time since he woke up that he completely feels like himself again, so he gives her his best smile and adds, “You still can’t have him.”

She rolls her eyes and pats him on the knee. “Alright, I get it. Enough with the chitchat. Let’s get to work.”

 

Forty minutes later, Dean is rid of the drip and the catheter, has gotten his thrombosis shot and is a lot cleaner than he had been. With some coaxing and help he’s also made it to sit up and then actually walk the few short steps to the bathroom and back.

Now he’s exhausted and hurting a lot more than before and he’s got a tray of breakfast in front of him that looks completely unappetizing. But the nurse told him that if he eats it, she’s going to bring his daughter. So he eats.

By the time he’s done, the doctor is doing her rounds, so he has to get through that.

But then finally, the nurse does as promised. “She’s been fed and she’s got a fresh diaper. All you have to do is sit here and hold her and keep her warm. Here, let me show you.”

They’ve already exchanged the hospital gown against Dean’s own clothes, including a flannel from the overnight bag that probably Hannah has packed, seeing how neatly everything is folded and stacked. He unbuttons the top of the shirt and the nurse helps him with the sling and the positioning of the baby.

“Does that hurt?” she asks. “Any pressure on the surgical scar?”

“No,” Dean shakes his head.

“Would you tell me if there was? Because I’d only help you adjust your daughter, I wouldn’t take her away.”

From the way his neck gets hot, Dean knows denial is useless. “Umm, maybe it hurts a little.”

“Aha,” the nurse harrumphs but she is careful and efficient when she helps him with Mary. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Mary seems to think so, too, because she makes cooing noises again and seems to be perfectly content.

“Alright. The call button is right here in case it gets too much for you. Otherwise, I’ll check up on you in an hour.”

“Could you check,” Dean calls her back, “my brother is supposed to be outside somewhere. Tall, lanky kid. About the most unthreatening Alpha you’ve ever seen.”

“Sam, yes, I know him already. Should I sent him in?”

And of course the nurse would know Sam by name. Seems like his whole family has made an impression in this hospital. Dean just has to hope he’s not the one they end up disliking. “Yes, please.”

“Of course.”

Then Dean is alone with his daughter for the first time. She’s scenting at his skin again, committing him to memory. He sticks his nose into the short soft hair on her head that doesn’t yet seem to be sure which color it wants to end up being. She smells like hospital and like milk but under that there is a soft note that is just herself. It’ll stay innocent and sweet until she presents, only then developing into her full scent. She doesn’t smell like Cas and she doesn’t smell like Sam has described Dean’s scent to him. She smells like herself. A bit like cookies dipped in milk. But there’s something wilder about the scent, too. Wild flowers maybe, or blueberry bushes in the sun.

He’s already sure that he can pick out her scent among a million if he has to. It makes him smile and makes a warmth blossom in his heart that has so far been reserved for Cas only. But he’s sure Cas won’t mind sharing with his daughter. There’s enough love in his heart for the both of them.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice comes from the door, low and hesitant, as if he doesn’t want to intrude.

“Come in, man,” Dean smiles. “Glad you’re here.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Weird,” Dean replies. “Kind of like someone beat me into a pulp but I’m still happy as a summer day.”

“She’s perfect,” Sam says, eyes warm with love for the pup already.

“Yeah, she is,” Dean readily agrees.

“And you named her -”

“Mary, yeah,” Dean finishes the sentence when Sam doesn’t. “Though Cas might not have been at full mental capacity when he said yes to that one. Shoulda maybe have waited for him to stop crying first.” He says it lightly but his heart isn’t nearly as light as his tone. Seeing Cas this broken still hurts.

“Can I ask why? Why Mom? Just cause she’s…” And Sam seems to be the king of unfinished sentences today.

“Not just because Mom is dead, no,” Dean says bluntly. “But because Mary’s got her eyes. Or a mixture of hers and Cas’, I don’t know. And because –“ he’s got to think about how to word this for a moment because Sam was too young when she died to remember anything about their mom. “Because she loved us a lot. And we didn’t have very much time to love her. But we get to love little Mary for the rest of our lives, hopefully.”

He gives his daughter another kiss on the head. She sniffed a little at the scent of Alpha that came with Sam, but seeing that everything is warm and peaceful, she has obviously decided that the scent isn’t a threat and her eyes are starting to droop.

He looks up at Sam to find that his brother’s eyes are bright with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to know her, Sammy,” Dean says quietly.

“Nah,” Sam shakes his head and wipes at the tear that has escaped down his cheek. “You’ve got it worse, man. You know what got taken away from you. You remember her looking at you like – like you look at your little girl right now. I don’t.”

Dean would contest that he has it worse just because he knows what he‘s missing out on. Because, you know, at least he knows what he’s missing out on. But he doesn’t want to fight. He looks down at his daughter, eyes now fully closed and softly snoring against his chest. And he knows one thing. “I never want her to go through what we had to go through. You help make sure of that, Sam, okay? Something happens to me, you help make sure Cas doesn’t go off the deep end.” And it’s easier to think about this than about the other option, but still, “the other way around – same deal.”

“I don’t know whether I can do that, Dean.”

“You can,” Dean insists. “Ask Gabriel for help. He’s pragmatic enough to get over a death. And he’s persistent enough not to let go until he’s reached what he wants to reach.”

“Dean, I don’t,” Sam breaks off and sighs, “alright, I’ll do my best. But, you almost died, Dean. I don’t want to talk about that actually happening.”

And maybe sometimes Dean forgets how young his brother really still is. How he’s barely an adult and living on his own. And how Dean is the only family he’s got. “Okay, Sammy,” he relents. “Let’s not talk about it.”

But of course, that ends in silence. Because there’s the baby, and the hormones and the bonding make everything better, but Dean still feels like someone beat him half to death and he’s pretty sure he still looks it, too. So, it’s kind of a topic that’s on hand and everything else is not that far to the front of his mind.

“I guess Henricksen will have to re-schedule,” is what Dean finally comes up with.

“Huh?”

“The exams. He’s the only one who didn’t give me a break and let me take them a few weeks early to be on the safe side. But there’s rules about this shit, I’ve read up on it. He can’t just flunk me, he has to re-schedule.”

“You’ve read up on it.”

“Of course I did. I’ve got a brother who’s going to be a kick-ass lawyer, I know my shit!” He wants to make Sam smile with it, but instead there are tears in his eyes again.

“Oh goddammit! Come here, Sam.” He opens the arm with which he’s not holding Mary and it’s only a second’s hesitation before Sam gets up and let’s himself be hugged. Another few seconds and Sam’s returning the hug, and then he’s crying and nuzzling into Dean’s side and scenting him like he hasn’t done anymore since Cas.

Dean wants to return the gesture, wants to scent his brother the same way, find comfort in a scent he’s known since he was four, but between the sleeping Mary who he doesn’t want to wake and the surgical scars, his movement is restricted. So he just presses his nose into Sam’s hair, still way too long but he doubts that he’ll ever cut it.

He lets Sam cry, holds him through it, every inch the older brother now, Alpha / Omega crap not forgotten but unimportant.

“No matter what happens, you’ll never be alone, Sammy. You’ll always have the pack. And you have Jessica.” Because Sam’s been here for a day or two and he can still smell her on him.

“I can’t imagine life without you,” Sam whispers.

And of course his brother can’t imagine life without him because he’s never known it. “You can’t imagine it, but you can live it. Cas is going to be there. The pack’s going to be there. Should anything happen to me, they’d be there.” Just then he notices that the smell of the room has changed and he looks up. “They would, wouldn’t they?”

“Of course,” Cas says from where he hovers near the door.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Dean says.

“I know, Sam and I are not supposed to be in here at the same time,” Cas fidgets, obviously uncomfortable at the edge of the room and wanting to come in.

“Not what I meant. You’re supposed to be asleep at the Miltons’.”

“I showered,” Cas offers weakly. “And – new clothes.”

Dean only notices the clothes now. They are tighter than anything Cas usually wears. A lot tighter. And the black-in-black combination is so not his style. “Balthazar’s?” Dean hazards.

Sam looks up at Cas then, too, who is almost shrinking under the scrutiny. “Balthazar’s,” he confirms.

“Turn around,” Dean says.

“What?”

“Turn around!”

Hesitantly, Cas turns a confused circle.

“Knew it,” Dean nods.

“You knew what?” Sam has stepped away from Dean by now, so Cas is finally coming in.

“That skinny jeans make your ass look awesome. You should wear them more often.”

“Dean!” Sam groans.

Cas rolls his eyes. “You’re feeling better then,” he ventures.

“I kind of do,” Dean nods. “Little one helps.” Cause even with the decreased pain meds, the pain has become less since she’s been sleeping against his chest.

“I’m glad,” Cas smiles and comes to Dean’s side to wrap his arm around Dean and their daughter.

“I should go,” Sam says uncomfortably.

“If you want to stay, stay,” Cas answers, “please.”

“It’s against the rules,” Sam fidgets and looks from Cas to Dean and back. “You’re his mate and Mary’s father. You should be here, not me.”

“Sam,” Cas shakes his head, “We’re not that kind of Alphas. Dean means as much to you as he does to me. And we both almost lost him. Please, stay.”

Subconsciously, Cas reaches out and grabs Dean’s hand. In any other Alpha, Dean would say it’s a territorial gesture, making sure Sam sees and knows that Dean belongs to him even while he invites Sam to stay. With Cas, he thinks it’s something different.

“It’s okay. I’m still here, little Alpha.” He squeezes Cas’ hand for a second in emphasis.

And yeah, he’s been right because even though Cas’ tight self-control has returned, when he looks at Dean, his eyes are shimmering brightly again. Sam is sniffling, too, actually.

“Jesus, guys, anyone tell you that this is not a chick-flick?” Dean knows he’s deflecting but he can’t handle all the emotion directed at him.    

“You watch Dr. Sexy, Dean. You got no leg to stand on.”

It comes out wobbly but Dean appreciates Cas’ attempt at humor. “Damn right I do. A guy must feed his imagination somehow. And you’re not doing me the favor of wearing cowboy boots.”

Sam groans again and Cas’ eyebrows rise. “Feeding your imagination, huh?”

Dean smirks at Cas, best seductive grin not very seductive today, because he’s too banged up for his mind to even consider anything in that direction, but riling them makes them forget about crying, so he’s reached his goal already. “Even you gotta admit that he looks damn sexy in his cowboy boots. I mean, he’s named Dr. Sexy for a reason.”

Cas growls at that and it makes Mary stir in her sleep.

Dean softly pets his hand over her head. “It’s okay, little one. He’s not growling for real. I think, anyway. But maybe we’ll get him to buy cowboy boots, what do you think?” He smiles at Cas with the last sentence, including him in the joke instead of riling him further.

It takes a second but then understanding washes over Cas’ face. The growl gets exchanged for a tentative half-smile. “I’m predictable, ain’t I?”

“Yup,” Dean nods.

Cas huffs at that, but his eyes have gone soft. “I’m not thanking you for being irritating on purpose.”

Dean chuckles at that. “Wasn’t expecting it actually. Just wanted y’all to stop looking at me like you expect me to drop dead any second.”

That’s answered with a somewhat uncomfortable silence by both Alphas, eyes immediately huge and watery again, so Dean sighs and gives up on the attempt at distraction. He’s already broached the topic so he might as well get the talk over with. He turns to his mate.

“Alright then,” he squares his shoulders, “Cas, you can’t do that again. You can’t break down. We got a pup now. Something happens to me, you need to function. You can’t become like my Dad. You can’t leave her to fend for herself cause you lost me. Can’t do it to Sam or your pack, either. And they’re going to help, and I’m going to set Gabe on you, but it’s still gotta be you. You gotta find a way to handle it.” And there’s a lot of orders and reproach in there and usually that would make him cringe. But this is different. This isn’t about Dean. This is about his daughter and he’s going to do anything to keep her safe and happy. Pissing off Cas included.

Only, Cas doesn’t look all that pissed off. He looks like he’s expected the question and has a stock answer. “I can’t promise you what you want to hear, Dean. And I’m not going to say it just because you want me to. I don’t know what I’d do if you died. I don’t know whether I could still lead the pack. Maybe Sam could. I just don’t know.”

Sam tenses at the mention of his name, and it seems that Cas realizes at the same moment what he’s pretty much admitted to.

He sighs heavily and turns to face Sam without letting go of Dean’s hand. “Yes. One of us would have to keep functioning. At least until we know what Mary presents as.”

“Or any of our future children,” Dean adds because that sounded suspiciously like Cas is not planning on more children, and Dean is firmly against that. Everyone needs siblings who have their back. Unless – “Unless the doctors told you something that they didn’t tell me?” Hot worry spreads in his stomach.

“Dean…”

“Don’t ‘Dean’ me, Cas. Just tell me,” he asks urgently.

“No, they didn’t. They say we can have more kids. Not right away, obviously. But it’s possible. It’s just – the risk is always going to be there.”

“Okay,” Dean says and breathes a relieved sigh. “Okay. I can live with that.”

Cas looks at him like he’s out of his mind, so Dean doesn’t push the point. It’s possible in theory, that’s enough for him for now. He kisses Mary on the head and says, “We’ll talk about it when it’s time to cross that bridge, okay?”

Cas takes a deep breath to start an argument but Dean’s not up for arguing right now, so he makes his eyes wide and ducks his head to look at Cas through his lashes. It’s a tactic, making himself look as doe-eyed and Omega as he can, and Cas knows it, too. Still, he closes his mouth and exhales slowly before saying. “Alright. We’ll talk about it when the time comes.”

“Thanks, little Alpha,” Dean smiles and it is softer than he usually would be after he won an argument this way. But then, Cas has been through enough in the past week. Dean can give him a break.

“Umm, guys, sorry to interrupt, but...” Sam says tentatively, and Dean notices only now how confused his brother still smells. And yeah, they’ve started that topic and then kind of drifted, haven’t they?

Dean chuckles softly, “Yeah, Cas, looks like it’s time to be the big Alpha again. Mary and me, we’ll be okay if you want to discuss this without us.”

It’s pack- Alpha business after all and as such, he’s got no official place in this discussion. And he’s made his peace with Cas’ decision months ago, he doesn’t need to hear it again. His brother on the other hand smells even more confused now, and also somewhat hurt, because it’s obvious that Dean knows what’s going on and has been hiding it from him.

Cas notices it, too, because while his exhaustion is still palpable he straightens his back and falls back into his role as pack-Alpha without a hitch. “I asked Dean to keep the information from you. So if you want to be upset, be upset at me.”

Sam reacts to the change by shrinking back a degree. “Umm, I still don’t really know which information you’re talking about, Cas.” It sounds like a title more than like his name.

“I instated you as my successor in case of my death,” Cas says bluntly. “Temporarily, should Dean’s and my children not be of age yet. Indefinitely, should we not have Alpha-children of our own.” He says it with the same practiced evenness that he covers all business with, and not at all like he’s turning Sam’s world on its head.

“You – what?”

“Your relationship with Jessica complicates things to a certain degree, seeing that it is unsure that you will be able to have children together, and stability is important to a pack. But I’m guessing as long as you have Ellen’s and Bobby’s support, you can pretty much hold your position through anything.” Cas sighs. “I must admit that I have not thought about the possibility of the current circumstances. Of a case where we might both be unfit for pack-leadership.”

Dean notices how carefully Cas words that to avoid stating the obvious out loud, so he takes it upon himself to drag it out into the open. “Well, then you better figure it out. What to do if I die. For Mary’s sake if for nothing else.”

“I would never desert her,” Cas answers passionately.

Dean’s eyebrows rise. “But you would desert your pack? They need you, too. And Mary needs a home and friends she can count on.”

“Dean, please, don’t.” Cas’ voice sounds pleading.

Dean nods curtly. “Alright. Important pack business and all, none of my business. I’m just the resident Omega, you go on without me.”

“That’s not what I –“ Cas breaks off when he notices that his voice has gotten louder. “Not what I meant, and you know it.”

Dean’s getting a bit upset at this too by now. This line of argument dredges up too many bad memories. “You wouldn’t desert her? What’s that even mean? That you’d take her on an indefinite road trip when you run away? Cause our father did that to us and believe me when I tell you that it sucked ass.”

“I’m not your father!” Cas explodes.

“Well, if you were, I wouldn’t make it five minutes in your company,” Dean snaps. “Man, you make contingency plans for fucking everything. How the hell do you not have a contingency plan for this?”

“Cause I can’t stand the thought of you dying, Dean, that’s why!” Cas shouts.

The shouting wakes Mary, and she starts crying. And fuck, they’ve kind of forgotten about her.

“Shh, shh,” Dean rocks her in his arms, argument with Cas immediately less important than making his daughter’s world peaceful again. “It’s okay, little one, there’s no need to cry. Everyone is good again now.”

She keeps crying, though, even with his interference.

“Cas, calm your scent down, please.” It’s phrased as a strong request with a harsh undertone but Cas already looks guilty and is working on calming himself.

Slowly, Mary’s cries change into hiccups and then she’s nosing at Dean’s skin, trying to find her way to the food source right in front of her.

“Oh, you can’t, little one,” Dean carefully scoops her up. “I wish you could but you gotta work with the stupid bottle for now, okay? Cas?” He looks up at his mate. “Can you get us a bottle?”

“I’ll do it,” Sam jumps up. “No problem. I’ll do it.” And then he’s out of the room before any of them can react.

“Yeah, Uncle Sammy ran. He didn’t take that too well, did he?” Dean sighs and kisses his daughter’s forehead. “Alpha-Daddy is going to have to talk to him. And he’s gotta do it without Omega-daddy so that they’re not getting into a shouting match again.” Dean glances over at Cas but he doesn’t even try to get a read on him before he says. “Which I’m not sorry for, by the way.”

And maybe he’s riding the wave of ‘I almost died so I know I’ll get away with pretty much anything right now’ or maybe it’s because it’s been more than a year and the other shoe hasn’t dropped, or maybe it’s because this is about his daughter and not about him, but the usual urge to immediately apologize for antagonizing Cas doesn’t manifest. “Be pissed at me if you have to. But it’s not just you and me anymore now. We’re responsible for her. You need that contingency plan, whether you like it or not.”

He doesn’t look at Cas after he’s finished his little speech, concentrates on Mary instead and gives Cas the space to figure out how he wants to react. He tries to get a read on him via his scent, though, ready to make sure Mary isn’t going to get caught in the crossfire if the fight continues. But with the strong hospital smell and Cas’ self-control, Cas’ scent is inconclusive. “Should I call for the nurse to take her back to her bed for a while?” he asks and the question beneath it is unspoken but still clear. ‘Do you need us to be alone in the room so that our daughter doesn’t get scared by whatever you choose to do next?’

When there is no answer forthcoming, Dean finally looks up at his mate again. But Cas isn’t looking at him. He’s staring into the distance, motionless, a deep frown creasing his forehead.

“Cas?” Dean asks and when Cas doesn’t react, he reaches out and lays a hand on his knee.

“Can we – can we stop fighting for a moment, please? Can you hold me?” Cas’ voice breaks on the words and Dean has no idea where Cas went in his head, but he doesn’t have to be asked twice.

“Come here, little Alpha.”

He opens his arm and Cas curls into him, burying his nose into Dean’s chest where the flannel is unbuttoned. He doesn’t cry from what Dean can discern, but he’s holding on tight enough that Dean knows things are still wrong.

Dean lets his hand drag through Cas’ hair, but apart from that just holds him and lets him work it out.

It’s weird how they’ve ended up here. When Dean was only semi-conscious, he’d instantly reverted back to his old habits. To fearing that Cas would settle himself with a broken mate out of kindness and pity, or would leave him altogether if Dean gave him the chance. And now they’ve ended up fighting about the complete opposite. About Cas not being able to let go.

But Dean remembers the moments of thinking his mate had left him all too clearly, and for a second his hold on Cas’ hair tightens before he makes the effort to relax again. “I don’t know whether that makes anything better. But I know how much it hurts. To think about being left alone. Believe me, I know.”

“Don’t ever leave,” Cas mumbles against his skin.

Dean chuckles softly. “It’s not like you can’t order me back as long as I’m still breathing.”

Cas holds him tighter. “Just don’t ever leave.”

And yeah, it’s one way of saying that Cas‘ decision not to force Dean into being with him, still stands.

“They’ll have to drag me away kicking and screaming. Hell, death will have to drag me kicking and screaming. Only way I’m going to go.”

“Heavy topics,” the nurse coming through the door, Sam in tow, remarks.

Sam looks sheepishly at them, “I tried. She said no.”

“Indeed I did. Dean needs to recover and the little one needs to get her check-up. You can have her back later. Uh-uh,” she shakes her head before Dean can even protest, “you will play nice and give her to me, and your mate is not going to interfere.”

She comes over with a determined few steps and Dean’s already loosening the sling, because there’s no argument against that tone. It’s the same tone Bobby uses when a repair needs to be done right now and he’s not once won against it.

Cas sits up from where he was lying half on top of Dean but he doesn’t object, either, just sighs and scratches his neck, a gesture that has migrated from Dean to his mate at some point.

“So, little Mary, we’re going to give your daddies some peace to rest for a while now. Yeah, I know that you don’t like it. But your bottle is in the other room.” She quickly and efficiently dislodges Mary from Dean’s hold, and soothes her cries of protest. “Sleep. The both of you,” she orders Cas and Dean and then turns to go before they can protest.

Sam hovers in the door, apparently unsure of what to do next.

And Dean doesn’t really know, either. But he knows that he and Cas are not good with each other yet, and there’s no chance in hell that he’s going to sleep before that hasn’t happened. “Sam, I’m sorry but can you give us a minute? Cas is going to come out and talk to you in a moment. But we’re kind of in the middle of something.”

Sam looks from Dean to Cas and back but he nods and turns to go. He hasn’t made any attempts at interfering between Dean and Cas since Thanksgiving. To her credit, neither has Jess.

Then they are alone. Cas is sitting on the edge of the bed, uncomfortable and judging by his scent unsure of where they stand right now as well. They are still fighting this out, even if it’s not a loud fight anymore. And Dean is so exhausted, he only wants to give in and hug Cas and kiss him and let things be. But he can’t. He got Cas’ stock answer before, but he needs a real answer. He needs to know that he doesn’t have to carry the weight for both of them. That he can trust his mate even in his absence.

“Cas? Answer me one question and answer it honestly and after thinking about it, and I promise I’ll drop the topic. Please?” Dean waits for Cas to nod before going on. “If I die, can you live without me? And I mean live, not just not go ahead and get drunk enough to crash your car into a wall.”

Cas knows why this is important to him. Knows how contradictory Dean feels about this whole issue. How he clings, afraid to lose Cas, while at the same time trying to make sure they’re still their own persons, still able to function, however brokenhearted, on their own. Cause no matter what other fears he has, the fear of turning into his Dad is the worst. The fear of hurting everyone and dragging them into the abyss with him because he can’t cope.

Cas’ scent turns darker and he wrings his hands together in his lap. He still doesn’t like the topic. But he’s giving it serious consideration instead of deflecting or getting angry like before. Yeah, Cas understands, of course he does. He knows Dean better than anyone else after all.

When Cas finally looks up from where his gaze was resting on his hands, he’s calm and composed. “I’m reasonably sure that I can live without you, Dean. Eventually. I just really don’t want to.”

“Good,” Dean nods in relief. “Good. Cause I wanna keep you for as long as I can, too. But I can’t let you -,” he breaks off, takes a deep breath and starts anew. “You did good, calling Gabriel for backup. Whoever made you do that, you did good.”

“Hannah, actually,” Cas says quietly. “That was Hannah.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. He did not expect that.

Cas smiles faintly. “They may not like each other but he was the logical choice.”

And that sounds like Hannah, always pragmatic.

“She did good, then,” Dean nods. “Call him again when you need to. Gabe’s tough. He won’t let you go under.”

Cas chuckles but it’s a bitter little laugh. “Now if you could try and make each other see that about yourselves. How tough you are. How much there is about you to love. How you can drag our Alpha-asses out of the mud. You both classify yourself as weak and broken, and that assessment is so far from the truth, I don’t even know where to start.”

It takes a moment for Dean to piece it together where this is coming from. “He told you. Gabe told you. About when I woke up.”

Cas sighs, long and heavily.

“Didn’t actually think he’d string it together. Don’t think I was very coherent,” Dean says softly. He leans back into the pillows, giving both of them some space to think. He hadn’t actually planned on telling Cas any details about his freak-out.

Cas snorts. “Yeah, I should add ‘smart’ to the list of things both of you tend to forget about yourselves.”

It’s sarcastic and exasperated and it makes Dean’s heart hurt.

He wants to make it better and he wants to explain himself, but he doesn’t really know how. He wasn’t at his best, still barely conscious and frightened. “I didn’t know, Cas,” Dean doesn’t manage to get his voice above a whisper. “I didn’t know whether she’d made it. And then I woke up, and it was just Gabe in the room with me… And I thought… I thought maybe you had decided that -,” he doesn’t even want to finish that sentence.

“You have to stop that, Dean. You have to stop assuming the worst.” It’s quiet and resigned, the sarcasm drained away. “Cause that’s not what I want to teach our daughter, either. That if she turns out Omega, she’ll have to walk on eggshells for the rest of her life. That any moment the rug could be pulled out from under her.”

“She’ll have us to fall back on,” Dean replies firmly. “I never had that, Cas. And even now, you have your pack and your territory. I have no backup plan. I mean, I know you made plans in case you die. I know that I wouldn’t be homeless then. But you cast me out, I have nowhere to go. I mean, I guess Sam would take me in. But you know me, I ain’t good at accepting pity. And also,” he averts his eyes, “I guess I’d hope you’d still let me see Mary. So I’d stick around somewhere close.”

“Dean…”

“Cas, just – don’t. You’re going to say that it’s our pack and our home and that we both have the same right to it. And it’s all true as long as you love me. And I trust you. I do. You know that. But it doesn’t change the facts.”

For a moment, they’re both silent. Then Cas resolutely shakes his head, “You honestly think they’d let me get away with that? You honestly think I’d be pack-Alpha much longer if I threw you out on the streets? If I took our daughter away from you? Dean, if you can’t take my word for it, then think about it. You know our pack better than that!”

That shuts Dean up. Because yeah, he’s always trusted Ellen and Bobby to keep an eye out for him. They’re pretty much his adopted parents anyway. And they’ve threatened mutiny before. He just never thought that they might go through with it. Not if Cas made a final decision. Cas’ territory is their home after all, and Cas is a good Alpha. No one in their right mind would want to supplant him.

But now that he thinks about it, he can’t see them letting him head out to the city, broken and alone and without secure means to sustain himself. He can much rather see Bobby offering him his old job back, or if the center of their pack territory isn’t a feasible option, Ellen getting him work at the Roadhouse, Cas and the manor be damned. And it would hurt, God, it would hurt, being this close to Cas and not being able to reach him, but “I’d still have a home.”

“Yes, Dean,” Cas nods. “You’ll always have a home now. You had to depend on me once, before you found your own place in the pack. You don’t anymore. And my status doesn’t change a damn thing about that.”

“I love you,” Dean answers, and maybe it’s a weird answer in the context, but it’s true and he feels the need to say it.

Cas smiles at him, then, a knowing little smile because they always love each other but it is easier when the love isn’t muddled up by fear and dependency.

“Want to kiss you,” Dean says and holds out a hand for Cas to take.

There’s no hesitation as Cas slides his hand over Dean’s palm, and brings his other hand up to cup Dean’s face.

They kiss softly, tentatively, their first real kiss after they almost lost each other. Dean brings his hand up, too, though he doesn’t use it to cup Cas’ face, he finds his way beneath Cas’ collar and lets his fingers rest on the mating bite.

“Yours,” Cas mumbles against his lips when he feels the caress.

Dean smiles, issues thoroughly shut up for the moment, and hauls Cas in by his neck to deepen the kiss.


End file.
